


A Thank You Would Be Nice

by Taterz_Tots



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Mark's not supposed to be dead, Teenagers, and why are you still reading them?, but I mean it's a little open ended so that's up to you, family au, in that case he's not dead, it's hard being a parent, not in my AU, then it's up to me, unless I continue it, what are these tags?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 16:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12845280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taterz_Tots/pseuds/Taterz_Tots
Summary: [[Title subjected to change]]All Seán wants is a thank you... he doesn't get one.kinda sad domestic AU that I didn't mean for it to be sad but it somehow is.Enjoy?idk anymore dude





	A Thank You Would Be Nice

**Author's Note:**

> I've been debating posting this because it was originally meant to be a little three-part fic but when I took a break from writing it and re-read it, this was the result. I do like this version, but if you want the happy ending (where Seán gets his thank you) please let me know.
> 
> Open ended?
> 
> Also, I'm aware I have two other fics I haven't updated in a few weeks and I apologized. I'm working on 'em, promise.

All Seán wanted was for his family to appreciate all he did, just a simple pat on the back and a ‘hey, you’re doing great’ would be enough.

Instead, it’s 1 AM and he can still hear his kids awake in their rooms when he sent them to bed 3 hours ago.

It’s understandable, Crista and Edward are both teenagers now, and a 10 PM bedtime would have been blasphemy for him too at their age, but it was a school night and dammit he was tired.

He finishes folding the last bit of laundry, Edward’s, and sets off in the direction of the boy’s room. The door is ajar, and since his arms are full he can’t really knock, so he pushes it open furthermore with his foot, peeking his head in. He sees Ed sitting at his desk, headphones on, fingers fast on the keyboard. If Seán hadn’t been an avid gamer back in his day, he would say the boy was hard at work on some project, but he was no fool, and he could clearly see the game on the monitor.

He marches into the room, unnoticed, and puts the folded clean clothes in their proper place. He picks a few shirts and jeans, along with a pair of socks, and leaves them hanging on the closet door. He knows he doesn’t have to, at 14 Ed is old enough to pick his own outfits for the day, but he still likes to do it himself, and it makes him happy to see his son wearing one of the shirts he chose as an option.

Carefully, to not startled him, he lifts an ear pad, calling him

The boy still jumps, “what the fuck?!”

Seán raises an eyebrow and gives him a stern disapproving look, “you wanna try that again?”

“Sorry”, but his eyes are quickly back to the monitor, “what’s up, pop?”

“It’s time for bed” he points at the digital clock by the bed, knowing full well the boy is not paying him attention

“This is the last game, promise” oh Seán knows that line, “we’re almost done” he knows that one too.

“Alright” he ruffles his shaggy brown hair and puts the ear pad back in its place, “last game”

“Thanks”

“Good night” he walks to the door, turning one last time before leaving “Lov…”

“Hey, could you close the door? Thanks. G’night dad”

Right. The door. He closes it with a sigh and continues to the next one.

He’s not going to even attempt to go in that one. The door is probably locked anyway. So he knocks, twice.

There’s a pause in the animated chatter on the other side of the door, then “yeah?”

“It’s time for bed, sweetheart”

A groan, then muffled conversation not meant for him, “my dad... yeah... yeah… I’ll text ya... yeah… bye”

He rolls his eyes, “Bed now, please”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm going”

No, she wasn’t, “thank you”

“Whatever, good night”

Oh, the lies. Oh, the attitude. Oh, girls were the worse. Teenage girls were the absolute worse. 16 years old girls named Crista were the bane of his existence, but goddammit he loved her too.

It’s 2 AM when Seán is finally setting into his bed. His way too big, empty, bed. He plays with his wedding band, very aware of the keyboard keys still sounding, and the faint laughter coming from the two rooms down the hall.

They will be tired in the morning, they will be grumpy and tired in the morning and Seán will very much want to tell them ‘I told you so’ but that’s not the kind of dad he is. Instead, he will probably offer to take them to school himself in place of them taking the bus as usual. Maybe he will make them an energy full breakfast, so they will at least make it through first period without falling asleep on their sits.

Maybe he will disconnect Edward’s computer and take Crista’s phone away. Ah, how about that.

Yeah right sure.

He hugs one of the extra pillows on the bed close to his body, burying his face in it... it still smells like him.

If only Mark was here, he could at least go to sleep warm.


End file.
